I write poems to shine a light on the spaces between things. Poems exist on the border between articulating and gesturing. They introduce images and sing along to them. They don’t finish anything up.
Prose is something else. “If you want to communicate, use the telephone,” bellowed Richard Hugo. I use prose when what I want to say is too complicated for the phone. Here’s my latest book. In it, I describe artists, writers and arts advocates in seventy mini essays.
Here’s something I wrote about “Making Things and Making Things Better,” the dilemma of how artistic practice imitates or inspires the art of living a good life. And, here is “Dreaming Richard Hugo,” an essay-fiction piece about chasing down a dead poet.
Here are some other books that I’ve written.
The Stenographer’s Breakfast, my first book, is a collection of poems that follows a court stenographer as she tries to “take dictation.”
Some new updates: Factory Hollow Press commissions a new Chapbook. Mary Randlett Portraits is a finalist for the Washington State Book Award. I’m instigating and serving as the writer of a documentary film, Where the House Was, about the demolition of 1634 11th Ave, home to Richard Hugo House. What About Fiction? That’s what’s also on my mind.